In Defense Of The Cargo Short

And not the fancy kind. The haggard, beaten, stained ones you're both ashamed and proud of.

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I know, I know. This is the STYLE section. Fitted blazers and properly rolled-up sleeves, normcore and peak beard. But there's an essential item that gets consistently overlooked: the ratty, faded, fraying, stained, likely indelicately odorous pair of cargo shorts. They may be stashed way in the back of a closet or drawer, in the garage, or even under the front seat of his truck … Hell, I've found mine in the refrigerator. But they're there somewhere, waiting for you, ready for you to need them at a moment's notice. Every man has a pair, or should. Make no mistake, they're a staple, a must-have so important, so inherent to your being a man, we've compiled a list as to why. Just in case you, or your significant other, need any convincing.

They're a stalwart member of your closet. Trends come and go, jeans get baggier then skinnier, shirts get slimmer and you get wider, but the shorts stay the course. They fit—sometimes with a belt, sometimes not, but always comfortably. A second skin; one you can wipe greasy hands on, stash tools in, tear a piece off, throw on to run around or wash the dog. Your finer clothes keep their distance, but it's respect, a healthy fear, not aversion.

Foot loose and fancy free. Machine wash warm? Tumble dry? Hand wash? Dry clean only? Press, steam, or iron? D) None of the above. This ain't hand-dyed organic linen. And if they were, they're not anymore. These shorts don't parlay in "clean" or "dirty," they're seasoned, a perfect ecosystem of stains and broken-in. Sure, you could wash 'em, and they'll get a little grayer, a little less stinky, but all you're really doing is watering down the character you've worked so hard to build.

While we're talking about character. Character is something that's earned. Built, from the ground up. It tells a tale, just like these shorts. That oily streak from fixing a lovely damsel's car on the highway. The measurements of a window from your first foray into home ownership, scribbled down in haste when no paper was readily available. Colorful smears, a permanent memory of finger painting with your son. A missing zipper tooth from the time you probably made him. A hole change always falls through, your dues paid to lady luck. Ticket stubs from a concert you'll never forget, but also don't really remember. There's not a bespoke suit in the world that can serve as such a totem to a life lived, chronicle your existence so intimately with its own.

No, you can't wear them to the office. Or even the majority of restaurants, though your local watering hole is definitely an exception. Especially if you're quenching your thirst while still coated in a sheen of sweat from accomplishing the day's labor. These are a garment that speak to action—whether you just mowed the yard, fixed a motorcycle, or sailed around a cape, when worn with nonchalant confidence they proclaim your masculine status better than any Emoji-riddled social media post ever will. Not that you'd ever make one of those.

You never know. Shit happens. Storms, floods, the zombie apocalypse, flat tires, helping friends move, a game-time decision to make for the woods. Do you really want to hem and haw your way through a pile of slacks and jeans and cords and board shorts, weighing the pros and cons of each? Why waste precious time? Just grab your cargos and go, hit the road running. There's something to be said for being ready for anything, and even more for the bragging rights of being the first one out the door. The beauty is in the simplicity.

Women love 'em. Laugh if you want, but who can deny the visceral attraction women feel towards a rugged man? It's a phenomenon you can build a foundation on. We're not saying you should throw on your rattiest gear and hit the club, but pay attention next time you're walking back from the beach or a hike or working on a friend's car, tired, sweaty, and disheveled. How many passing ladies are taking note? To them, even if only for a moment, you're a man of action, an Alpha male who can fix things and be spontaneous. And, of course, you clean up well. Always make sure you clean up well.

The great equalizer. Whether you're stacking cheddar on Wall Street or putting it on bread at a sandwich shop, we're all men here. We all go home at the end of our day and crack a cold one, contemplate our chores. There's shit that needs to get done, errands to run. The hardware store doesn't care how many people you manage or shares you hold, and a ditch is a ditch, no matter who digs it. We all share the same rules—do what needs to be done, do it right the first time. And we all have a ratty pair of comfortable shorts to throw on to do it in. That guy at the bar with muddy army shorts, a sunburn, and blistered hands you just knowingly shared a quiet beer with could be anyone; it doesn't matter. You're both wearing the time-honored uniform of Men Who Are Getting It Done, and that's a brotherhood you can't buy into.